It is a momentous day. My sister is completely moved in to her new home and my son has finished the Bar Exam in Denver. Both have worked really hard to get where they are and I am so proud of them.
Each of us has to find our own place in life and sometimes it takes more courage than we are willing to call forth, so when someone gets there, we should celebrate them. They are the examples for the rest of us.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Why Are We Different?
I was talking with my son today about what a great father I believe he is and how nice it is for Lennon to spend so much time with him. I recalled spending time with my own father and how I was really the only one of all four of us to do so. Bobby made a rather astute comment. He said that perhaps I am so different from my siblings because of the time I spent with my father.
I don't know why I never thought of that before. There are four of us, born less than five years apart altogether, and reared by the same mother and father in the same places at the same time. Yet we are very different people, not only in looks, but in ideologies and life skills.
Looking at my own sons, I realize they had very different mentors and father figures in their lives who contributed greatly to who they are. Even though all three of my children were also reared together in our two parent home, these other people had a huge influence on them.
If you ask us, each of my siblings will say our mother had the greatest influence on us. My father often worked three jobs while she was there to pull it all together and take care of us. Yet, my father spent a lot of quality time with me. especially while I was still very small. It was our special time. We had "dates" to go see a movie while the babies slept, or he took me to buy my first ballpoint pen so I could write like him, or we discussed the crown jewels or the Rosetta stone after dinner. He never did this with the other children.
My youngest brother was practically adopted by our childless next door neighbors and my mother's best friend. Uncle Ralph taught him to fish and hunt, how to work on his yard and house and probably a great many of his values. They were so close, that when Uncle Ralph and Aunt Jo became elderly, my brother took them in and cared for them like his own parents.
My middle brother and sister were probably closer to my mother, so no wonder we are all very different. Now that I understand that, I wonder what it is that makes certain people gravitate toward each other in such meaningful and deep relationships?
I don't know why I never thought of that before. There are four of us, born less than five years apart altogether, and reared by the same mother and father in the same places at the same time. Yet we are very different people, not only in looks, but in ideologies and life skills.
Looking at my own sons, I realize they had very different mentors and father figures in their lives who contributed greatly to who they are. Even though all three of my children were also reared together in our two parent home, these other people had a huge influence on them.
If you ask us, each of my siblings will say our mother had the greatest influence on us. My father often worked three jobs while she was there to pull it all together and take care of us. Yet, my father spent a lot of quality time with me. especially while I was still very small. It was our special time. We had "dates" to go see a movie while the babies slept, or he took me to buy my first ballpoint pen so I could write like him, or we discussed the crown jewels or the Rosetta stone after dinner. He never did this with the other children.
My youngest brother was practically adopted by our childless next door neighbors and my mother's best friend. Uncle Ralph taught him to fish and hunt, how to work on his yard and house and probably a great many of his values. They were so close, that when Uncle Ralph and Aunt Jo became elderly, my brother took them in and cared for them like his own parents.
My middle brother and sister were probably closer to my mother, so no wonder we are all very different. Now that I understand that, I wonder what it is that makes certain people gravitate toward each other in such meaningful and deep relationships?
Not Everything Is Set In Concrete
I finally have my car back, which set my finances back over a thousand dollars with the upshot being that I am now legal in North Carolina. And, as a nice perk, my car is working beautifully. Since I have not had wheels of my own for nearly a week, I set out to run some errands this afternoon.
I figure this is both necessary and also a way to test my navigational skills, since mountain driving is seldom quite as direct as you might think. I took the back road to Clyde, but could not seem to retrace my same route coming home. I ended up back on I40 East, which is always a surefire way to relocate when lost. I saw many interesting things I need to go back and check out some day, but not tomorrow. Part of our living experience is sharing cars. Barbie needs to run errands tomorrow, so I can lend Bobby the car, or go pick him up tomorrow night, which might be fun.
Someone once told me that as long as you can always get home, you are okay. It has been good advice.
Other than that, I saw a hummingbird in the back yard this morning and bought an awesome set of magnetic sticks and ball bearings for Lennon to play with at my house. I hope he likes them. (Gramma is having a great time with them tonight.) I find myself slipping back into old routines for the first time in ages, planning to put new lights over the kitchen sink and table and even on both sides of the mirror in the bathroom. Concrete walls present all sorts of new problems, but not everything is set in concrete.
I figure this is both necessary and also a way to test my navigational skills, since mountain driving is seldom quite as direct as you might think. I took the back road to Clyde, but could not seem to retrace my same route coming home. I ended up back on I40 East, which is always a surefire way to relocate when lost. I saw many interesting things I need to go back and check out some day, but not tomorrow. Part of our living experience is sharing cars. Barbie needs to run errands tomorrow, so I can lend Bobby the car, or go pick him up tomorrow night, which might be fun.
Someone once told me that as long as you can always get home, you are okay. It has been good advice.
Other than that, I saw a hummingbird in the back yard this morning and bought an awesome set of magnetic sticks and ball bearings for Lennon to play with at my house. I hope he likes them. (Gramma is having a great time with them tonight.) I find myself slipping back into old routines for the first time in ages, planning to put new lights over the kitchen sink and table and even on both sides of the mirror in the bathroom. Concrete walls present all sorts of new problems, but not everything is set in concrete.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Staircase To My Soul
Certain times in my life have been prime topics for My Thots. New places, new adventures, new ideas, anything new is easy to write about, but to write of spiritual growth is more difficult.
How do I write about a breath that flows infinitesimally gentler than the one before it? How do I express, the sweet nuance heard in a slight inflection of a word spoken as I depart from a room? Where is the drama in the impending fear that I have forgotten to smile in this moment only to discover that it smiled at me?
The increments of my life are ineffable right now. My intentions to embrace each one a constant struggle to be present, a test of my ability to focus on the whisper of a sunbeam in a symphony of light.
It is the sweet surcease of pain found deep within the agony of being that comes only when life imitates spirit, calling for the death of all artifice, all ego, all the myriad ways I have lived for many many years. It means giving up the armor plated chains that have kept the prickly little hedgehogs at bay and allowing myself to be a quivering bit of vulnerability for the sake of growth.
The staircase to my soul winds around the stem of my brain like sacred fire flies on a pilgrimage. Letting go of the words and stepping upon the Way unarmed, unadorned, and unprotected by anything other than faith is still too frightening for me to sustain very long right now, but I can go back as many times as I need to and each time I am a little farther along.
How do I write about a breath that flows infinitesimally gentler than the one before it? How do I express, the sweet nuance heard in a slight inflection of a word spoken as I depart from a room? Where is the drama in the impending fear that I have forgotten to smile in this moment only to discover that it smiled at me?
The increments of my life are ineffable right now. My intentions to embrace each one a constant struggle to be present, a test of my ability to focus on the whisper of a sunbeam in a symphony of light.
It is the sweet surcease of pain found deep within the agony of being that comes only when life imitates spirit, calling for the death of all artifice, all ego, all the myriad ways I have lived for many many years. It means giving up the armor plated chains that have kept the prickly little hedgehogs at bay and allowing myself to be a quivering bit of vulnerability for the sake of growth.
The staircase to my soul winds around the stem of my brain like sacred fire flies on a pilgrimage. Letting go of the words and stepping upon the Way unarmed, unadorned, and unprotected by anything other than faith is still too frightening for me to sustain very long right now, but I can go back as many times as I need to and each time I am a little farther along.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Question Is...
I need to remember that I have everything I need. Right now. In this moment. So, why can't I get it together?
101 Ways to Cook Crow
A sense of humor and the ability to admit when I am wrong are the springs that ease the bumps along the way. (And bring me some of the greatest, most personalized lessons in the world.)
If I have to eat crow, I intend to become the sous-chef of crow cookery.
If I have to eat crow, I intend to become the sous-chef of crow cookery.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Understanding
Once in a while I see a movie, or talk to someone and I realize that I have done a fair number of things other people talk about, but never do.
I'm not sure why that is, but I am both glad and feel I have no choice. Being true to myself requires me to do the things I do. Suffering the consequences is part of it, but the suffering is usually only a detour towards understanding more about myself. In the long run, I seldom regret the things I do.
In fact, the only thing I would do, if given a chance to relive my life, is to finish my education. If I were an architect, or anthropologist, I would be more independent and also probably have more money. Imagine the things I might do then!
I'm not sure why that is, but I am both glad and feel I have no choice. Being true to myself requires me to do the things I do. Suffering the consequences is part of it, but the suffering is usually only a detour towards understanding more about myself. In the long run, I seldom regret the things I do.
In fact, the only thing I would do, if given a chance to relive my life, is to finish my education. If I were an architect, or anthropologist, I would be more independent and also probably have more money. Imagine the things I might do then!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Go To The Source
I was listening to a recording of an old time fiddler talk about why he kept a rattle snake rattle in his fiddle. According to him, when they hung on the wall for a long time, spiders would fill them with webs and the rattle was supposed to help keep this from happening. The more I have thought about it, the more questions I have. I suspect it is more an old wives tale than a real solution, unless it is just the rattling around when you take the fiddle off the wall.
Worried about spiders crawling out of my dulcimer, I asked my son what he thought. He said he'd been hanging stringed instruments on the wall for some time now and the only thing he'd ever found in his were a few lost picks and some super heroes.
Asked what he did about it, he said it's easy, just keep a piece of kryptonite in each one.
Always go to the source for real answers.
Worried about spiders crawling out of my dulcimer, I asked my son what he thought. He said he'd been hanging stringed instruments on the wall for some time now and the only thing he'd ever found in his were a few lost picks and some super heroes.
Asked what he did about it, he said it's easy, just keep a piece of kryptonite in each one.
Always go to the source for real answers.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Truth Stands Alone
It is not possible to help people who choose not to help themselves.
For a while I can understand a reluctance to believe someone I love is so jaded and selfish that they will continually use me for whatever I can give them, or they can take from me.
Eventually the truth must stand alone and I must make a decision to remove this burden from my life. Should I choose not to do so, I have no right to complain anymore.
In the end the burdens I carry are my own responsibility. After all I am not an ass being loaded up by other people. I am an adult woman choosing to carry whatever lies on my own shoulders.
It is no one else's business and no one else's problem. I need to remember that.
For a while I can understand a reluctance to believe someone I love is so jaded and selfish that they will continually use me for whatever I can give them, or they can take from me.
Eventually the truth must stand alone and I must make a decision to remove this burden from my life. Should I choose not to do so, I have no right to complain anymore.
In the end the burdens I carry are my own responsibility. After all I am not an ass being loaded up by other people. I am an adult woman choosing to carry whatever lies on my own shoulders.
It is no one else's business and no one else's problem. I need to remember that.
Groom's Tune
I have been listening to Bonaparte's Retreat, better known as the Groom's Tune around here. Right after the Civil War the Groom's brothers and their brother-in-law, were rounded up, marched down the road and shot for being Outliers, men who did not fight in the war. One of the brother's was told to play a tune on his fiddle before they shot him and this is what he played. They say it was so sorrowful that dogs howled. His wife came in a wagon to get their bodies and his fiddle lay at his feet. Old Scottish and English tunes still lurk in the memories of the old folks here and so does flat footing, a sort of clogging or jigging type of dance.
Memories were how the old ones preserved their heritage, passing it on in stories to their young ones. W. Clark Medford remembered meeting a man born around 1796 in 1901. He was proud of being able to dance now that he was past a hundred. Of course now even Medford, born in 1883, has passed on. His stories are still here in the library via an out of print book published in the sixties.
People live a long time around here. The people across the street just died last winter. He was 98 or 99 and she followed him a few months later at 96. I met her several times and talked with her. She was out working in her yard the last time I talked with her. She was 95 and had just walked her customary two miles for the day. I think she just lacked the heart to go on after he died. Their children still come and work on the yard and house. I think most of them are in their early seventies.
Today Bobby let Lennon play in his pool with the hose while the dogs frolicked around the yard. When we came out Duke came slithering out from under it! I think he's a very old English Spaniel, but maybe he's really a water spaniel! He certainly loves water, to drink, or lie in, or sleep in. I came home covered in muddy paw prints, but Bobby barely made it out with his shorts. Lennon asked for his shirt and Bobby gave it to him thinking maybe he was cold, but as soon as the shirt was in his hands it was promptly dunked into the water and Lennon looked up to ask for his pants, which, to his chagrin, he did not get.
Life is easy and slow here and I love it.
Memories were how the old ones preserved their heritage, passing it on in stories to their young ones. W. Clark Medford remembered meeting a man born around 1796 in 1901. He was proud of being able to dance now that he was past a hundred. Of course now even Medford, born in 1883, has passed on. His stories are still here in the library via an out of print book published in the sixties.
People live a long time around here. The people across the street just died last winter. He was 98 or 99 and she followed him a few months later at 96. I met her several times and talked with her. She was out working in her yard the last time I talked with her. She was 95 and had just walked her customary two miles for the day. I think she just lacked the heart to go on after he died. Their children still come and work on the yard and house. I think most of them are in their early seventies.
Today Bobby let Lennon play in his pool with the hose while the dogs frolicked around the yard. When we came out Duke came slithering out from under it! I think he's a very old English Spaniel, but maybe he's really a water spaniel! He certainly loves water, to drink, or lie in, or sleep in. I came home covered in muddy paw prints, but Bobby barely made it out with his shorts. Lennon asked for his shirt and Bobby gave it to him thinking maybe he was cold, but as soon as the shirt was in his hands it was promptly dunked into the water and Lennon looked up to ask for his pants, which, to his chagrin, he did not get.
Life is easy and slow here and I love it.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Cultivating Family
Seeds always come from within. The harvest will not be any better than the seeds that are planted and the care the follows.
But even the best seeds require time to grow properly. Roots must grow strong and deep, sprouts must be lusty and search for their mother's breast and the mother must be patient and wise. Her nutrients and ways will effect these children as surely as the climate in which they grow.
Patience and love and time, top off the needs of anything that will flourish.
I am cultivating a family. Nothing is more sacred than that.
But even the best seeds require time to grow properly. Roots must grow strong and deep, sprouts must be lusty and search for their mother's breast and the mother must be patient and wise. Her nutrients and ways will effect these children as surely as the climate in which they grow.
Patience and love and time, top off the needs of anything that will flourish.
I am cultivating a family. Nothing is more sacred than that.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
The Honeymoon
Always there is the honeymoon. In every situation there is a time of wonder and awe.
And then the drum begins to beat softer and the smoke settles into its old routines and spirits are able to rest...
What seems like a let down is really only settling in, becoming part of that which was so novel, so romantic and more like a story book tale, or fairy story. I doubt if prince charming found chopping through the weeds around sleeping beauty's castle quite the joy it sounds like in the book. There was sweat and aching muscles, a few thorns stuck into fingers and probably more than a second thought or two when bumble bees wandered too close, or the lost snake slithered by.
Ecstasy is a temporary condition. If it overstays its welcome there is no room for growth and decay begins from the inside out. Life is a circle, filling up and letting go, filling up and letting go. Stopping the flow is unnatural.
Tonight I let go with the sacred sage and the music of my flute, listening to the night birds, playing to the moon, emptying myself in readiness for another day, another moment, another blessing.
And then the drum begins to beat softer and the smoke settles into its old routines and spirits are able to rest...
What seems like a let down is really only settling in, becoming part of that which was so novel, so romantic and more like a story book tale, or fairy story. I doubt if prince charming found chopping through the weeds around sleeping beauty's castle quite the joy it sounds like in the book. There was sweat and aching muscles, a few thorns stuck into fingers and probably more than a second thought or two when bumble bees wandered too close, or the lost snake slithered by.
Ecstasy is a temporary condition. If it overstays its welcome there is no room for growth and decay begins from the inside out. Life is a circle, filling up and letting go, filling up and letting go. Stopping the flow is unnatural.
Tonight I let go with the sacred sage and the music of my flute, listening to the night birds, playing to the moon, emptying myself in readiness for another day, another moment, another blessing.
The Master Weaver
Weaving relationships requires a master. The patterns are complex and multi-dimensional with the warp and woof hidden from sight so that they might appear inconsequential when they are the most essential part of all.
Make a mistake and the slub in the yarn is right out on top, but that does not ruin the entire thing. It only adds character and depth to what is a beautiful fabric woven from love and truth and good intentions.
The real Master is the Creator. I am only the apprentice, but I have faith that my hands are being guided in the correct way.
Make a mistake and the slub in the yarn is right out on top, but that does not ruin the entire thing. It only adds character and depth to what is a beautiful fabric woven from love and truth and good intentions.
The real Master is the Creator. I am only the apprentice, but I have faith that my hands are being guided in the correct way.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Listen For The Echoes
I just realized that I live on Star Ridge. What a lovely bit of knowledge that is. Of course my address is Newfound St. and even that comes with a lot of history. The slaves and mountain people would go to Leicester on Newfound when they wanted to get married.
The mountains have long memories and much has happened in them over the last four hundred years. Change comes quickly in cities, but small towns snuggled deep into valleys surrounded by long winding roads hold onto their echoes for a long time.
It is listening for these that caught my heart.
The mountains have long memories and much has happened in them over the last four hundred years. Change comes quickly in cities, but small towns snuggled deep into valleys surrounded by long winding roads hold onto their echoes for a long time.
It is listening for these that caught my heart.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Live and Learn
In the past I have often been guilty of wanting simplicity so much that I allow other people to take responsibility for things that are really mine to deal with. I thought I had gotten over most of this, but today I had good news that points to the fact that I am still guilty.
Bobby came in to tell me he found the power button for my car windows and when he turned it on the broken passenger window miraculously healed itself and rose from the dead. Bob once went as Jesus at Halloween, but I do not deceive myself when I say I should have checked the car myself!
It seemed easier to assume he was right and avoid the extra aggravation of discovering it for myself. Unfortunately it really added tons of stress to the past week as I had to drive around wondering when the plexi glass would blow out and how much it was going to cost to fix it.
It is definitely never too late to live and learn.
Bobby came in to tell me he found the power button for my car windows and when he turned it on the broken passenger window miraculously healed itself and rose from the dead. Bob once went as Jesus at Halloween, but I do not deceive myself when I say I should have checked the car myself!
It seemed easier to assume he was right and avoid the extra aggravation of discovering it for myself. Unfortunately it really added tons of stress to the past week as I had to drive around wondering when the plexi glass would blow out and how much it was going to cost to fix it.
It is definitely never too late to live and learn.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Crone Is Free!
Upside, downside, from whatever side I look at this move, it has been a good one. Where else could I have such a lovely place to live among friends, family, and stunning scenery?
It is as if this place is a key reaching deep into the heart of me and setting my crone free! I can feel the wisdom in the air, the joy in my breath, the sense of wholeness that surrounds me all the time.
Perhaps God is closer in the mountains. I know I am closer to God here.
It is as if this place is a key reaching deep into the heart of me and setting my crone free! I can feel the wisdom in the air, the joy in my breath, the sense of wholeness that surrounds me all the time.
Perhaps God is closer in the mountains. I know I am closer to God here.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Update Now I Have Internet
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
I drove to Asheville by myself and found the driver’s license place, but discovered I needed my social security card to apply. I had not brought my phone and had to drive all the way back to Canton to get it. I went back, passed the eye test and the meaning of the signs. The lady told me if I was not sure about the answer on the computer test to pass and go on. I only needed 20 out of 25, so do the ones I knew first. I passed on five questions before I got one wrong. I thought the alcohol level was .05%, but it was .08%, so I had to try one of the five I passed on. I got it right.
The woman had me pick out a license pattern (I chose the NC state shape) and had me verify that all the information was correct. It was, but there was a NL on it and I had to ask what that was. She gave me a funny look and said non-Latino. I thought that was rather racial, but didn’t say anything.
I had to wait because the picture machine ran out of photo cards and while I waited I met the young woman next to me. She was moving here from Virginia, because she wanted a change she said, but she sounded depressed. I mentioned that things usually did change given enough time. We continued talking and it turned out she was born and reared in Springfield, IL near where I grew up by Washington Park! What a small world.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The other day I went to the NC license plate facility in Canton and no one was there. I went back today with my NC driver’s license, car title, proof of Insurance and mileage only to find there was a huge line and the people at the counter took forever. As things started moving, the lady who does the work for businesses came out and offered to do my work. I followed her back. It cost $219.00 to get a NC title and license! Next year it will be $28. Then every year I need to get the car checked which will be about $30, she said!
Wow, hope I can afford to get the window fixed soon. I made a pot roast and sent some with Bobby for his supper tonight. My first big meal in my new home.
Friday, July 11, 2008
I went to the Biltmore with Bobby, Barbie, her mother (Grandma Carol), her brothers (Uncle John and Uncle Ian) and Lennon, the star of the show. We had an awesome time. Lennon wore his monkey back pack with a tail for a leash and was very good (and VERY cute.) Like Barbie said, if we need to leave you two (Grandmas)while we go get the car, we’ll leave you with the topic, How cute is Lennon.)
Afterwards we drove down through the estate and had a picnic under some beautiful shade trees near a wooded hill. Bobby and Barbie brought a blanket and Carol had some fold out chairs. It was elegantly casual.
When we got home I invited Carol in to see the house and we visited in my living room while Bobby and Barbie made a fire in the back yard fire pit, then we all cooked hot dogs made symores and talked until after midnight. I was a perfect ending to a perfect day. Chauncey got to be out with us and the conversation turned to books and movies, a nice relief from the constant gossip I have become accustomed to.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Today I worked on the music room, the last room to finish up before I start simple cleaning and reorganizing my books, although I have done the rugs several times, using a baking soda deodorizer today. I hung my dulcimer and turned the fan back around so it is blowing air into the house. I tried blowing it out to help get rid of the humidity, but then it gets too hot if I don’t turn it around the other way at night. I am still using the nails, screws and current holes for the time being. My piano is sticking on the E above middle C and the sustain pedal squeaked the first two hours I played. I may have to find a piano technician.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Obviously I had internet installed today! Nothing is easy here, though. The man hooked it up in less than fifteen minutes then spent over an hour and a half trying to make it work. He called Charter (the company he works for!) and they kept him on hold for that entire hour and a half. He finally left and I went to get a North Carolina Insurance Agent. It appears my insurance here may be almost half what it was in Illinois! I asked him to check closer to be sure. Now if I get the car inspected, the window fixed, and my deposit back from my old land lord, I can start paying off the moving truck.
Tonight Barbie made a fire in the back yard and we all made "shamoors" which Lennon is a big fan of. I feel like I should write some sort of great thot tonight, but instead I am just sending the entries from the past few days to update everyone. Moving has been so much fun and SO much work.
I drove to Asheville by myself and found the driver’s license place, but discovered I needed my social security card to apply. I had not brought my phone and had to drive all the way back to Canton to get it. I went back, passed the eye test and the meaning of the signs. The lady told me if I was not sure about the answer on the computer test to pass and go on. I only needed 20 out of 25, so do the ones I knew first. I passed on five questions before I got one wrong. I thought the alcohol level was .05%, but it was .08%, so I had to try one of the five I passed on. I got it right.
The woman had me pick out a license pattern (I chose the NC state shape) and had me verify that all the information was correct. It was, but there was a NL on it and I had to ask what that was. She gave me a funny look and said non-Latino. I thought that was rather racial, but didn’t say anything.
I had to wait because the picture machine ran out of photo cards and while I waited I met the young woman next to me. She was moving here from Virginia, because she wanted a change she said, but she sounded depressed. I mentioned that things usually did change given enough time. We continued talking and it turned out she was born and reared in Springfield, IL near where I grew up by Washington Park! What a small world.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The other day I went to the NC license plate facility in Canton and no one was there. I went back today with my NC driver’s license, car title, proof of Insurance and mileage only to find there was a huge line and the people at the counter took forever. As things started moving, the lady who does the work for businesses came out and offered to do my work. I followed her back. It cost $219.00 to get a NC title and license! Next year it will be $28. Then every year I need to get the car checked which will be about $30, she said!
Wow, hope I can afford to get the window fixed soon. I made a pot roast and sent some with Bobby for his supper tonight. My first big meal in my new home.
Friday, July 11, 2008
I went to the Biltmore with Bobby, Barbie, her mother (Grandma Carol), her brothers (Uncle John and Uncle Ian) and Lennon, the star of the show. We had an awesome time. Lennon wore his monkey back pack with a tail for a leash and was very good (and VERY cute.) Like Barbie said, if we need to leave you two (Grandmas)while we go get the car, we’ll leave you with the topic, How cute is Lennon.)
Afterwards we drove down through the estate and had a picnic under some beautiful shade trees near a wooded hill. Bobby and Barbie brought a blanket and Carol had some fold out chairs. It was elegantly casual.
When we got home I invited Carol in to see the house and we visited in my living room while Bobby and Barbie made a fire in the back yard fire pit, then we all cooked hot dogs made symores and talked until after midnight. I was a perfect ending to a perfect day. Chauncey got to be out with us and the conversation turned to books and movies, a nice relief from the constant gossip I have become accustomed to.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Today I worked on the music room, the last room to finish up before I start simple cleaning and reorganizing my books, although I have done the rugs several times, using a baking soda deodorizer today. I hung my dulcimer and turned the fan back around so it is blowing air into the house. I tried blowing it out to help get rid of the humidity, but then it gets too hot if I don’t turn it around the other way at night. I am still using the nails, screws and current holes for the time being. My piano is sticking on the E above middle C and the sustain pedal squeaked the first two hours I played. I may have to find a piano technician.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Obviously I had internet installed today! Nothing is easy here, though. The man hooked it up in less than fifteen minutes then spent over an hour and a half trying to make it work. He called Charter (the company he works for!) and they kept him on hold for that entire hour and a half. He finally left and I went to get a North Carolina Insurance Agent. It appears my insurance here may be almost half what it was in Illinois! I asked him to check closer to be sure. Now if I get the car inspected, the window fixed, and my deposit back from my old land lord, I can start paying off the moving truck.
Tonight Barbie made a fire in the back yard and we all made "shamoors" which Lennon is a big fan of. I feel like I should write some sort of great thot tonight, but instead I am just sending the entries from the past few days to update everyone. Moving has been so much fun and SO much work.
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